


new mistakes

by ronanlynchisneversleepingagain



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, No Zimbits, canon divergence - no graduation kiss, casual sex that is anything but casual, some jack-related angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 00:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/pseuds/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain
Summary: When Bitty took a job at a hockey summer camp in Brooklyn after graduating from Samwell, the last thing he expected out of it was being forced to spend so much time with Kent Parson.





	new mistakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InterruptingDinosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterruptingDinosaur/gifts).



> just a note on canon divergence here: the timeline is the same up to jack's graduation. he never comes back to the haus to kiss bitty and they never end up confessing their feelings for each other.

Most days, Bitty really liked his new job. Teaching a bunch of kids hockey drills wasn’t exactly living out his dreams, but it was a pretty good gig right out of college. When he’d graduated last month, he’d been staring down the decision to either tuck tail and go back to Georgia or take the coaching position at a youth hockey camp up in Brooklyn. Honestly, it hadn’t really been a hard decision. He would have taken waiting tables and sleeping on Shitty’s couch in his tiny Boston apartment over going back to Georgia, even if it was depressing as hell. His living arrangements in Brooklyn weren’t exactly ideal — he was living in a too-small apartment with two other guys also working at the camp, but it wasn’t Georgia so really, he didn’t have that many complaints.

Everything was going pretty well at camp too. Bitty was naturally great with kids and always had been and there were worse things to do with your life than teach puck handling to the next generation. He had even been promised that if the summer went well, he might have a more permanent position waiting for him at the end of it. 

Bitty had been half-way through running a scrimmage one morning in mid-June when Fawcett suddenly gestured him off the ice. Bitty skated over and got off the ice after dodging a few of the more enthusiastic young skaters who hadn’t quite gotten control of their edges yet.

“Something wrong?” Bitty asked.

“Nope,” Fawcett said and he clapped Bitty on the shoulder, obviously brimming with excitement about something. Usually Fawcett was a pretty stoic guy, so Bitty couldn’t help the small thread of nervousness about it. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“We just got a call from Kent Parson,” Fawcett said. “He wants to bring the Cup by later today. You think you can keep the kids busy enough until he gets here?”

Bitty froze. The words made sense in theory, but he was having a hard time processing them. Fawcett’s grin suddenly made a lot more sense. It wasn’t every day that a NHL player brought the Stanley Cup to your small, local rink on their Cup Day. Not just any NHL player either.  _ Kent Parson _ .

Good Lord, it had been a while since Bitty had thought about Kent Parson. He’d never come back to Samwell after his disastrous party-crashing episode in Bitty’s sophomore year and it had always been a fairly off-limits topic with Jack too. He’d seen Kent lead the Aces to the Cup again this year, but it had been with a sense of detached dislike. He’d been cheering for the Predators who were eliminated in the third round. He supposed it was pretty irrelevant anyways. There’s no way Kent would recognize him and he could just stay out of the way and let the kids have a once in a lifetime experience. 

“Of course,” Bitty promised a few beats too late, but Fawcett seemed not to notice. After a few more marching orders from Fawcett, Bitty headed back out to the ice and did his best to pretend like nothing out of the ordinary was happening when he returned to quietly spread word to the other coach on ice supervising the scrimmage. 

Luckily, they didn’t actually have that long to wait - Fawcett was waving to Bitty again just as they were about to wrap up twenty minutes later and with a nod, Bitty whistled play to a stop and had the boys take a knee just like they usually did after scrimmages. 

Despite his complicated feelings about Kent Parson, he couldn’t really deny that watching Kent bring the Cup out to center ice in front of a bunch of completely unprepared teenagers was pretty amazing. Bitty kept his distance from the general melee - the kids were swarming Kent and having him sign whatever they could while also talking his ear off. It wasn’t hard to just skate to the very edge of the crowd and let the kids have their fun. Of course, despite his best efforts, Kent somehow still noticed him as the kids were finally forced to disperse. 

Bitty had a brief flash of hope that Kent would just not look very closely at him when he first walked over to where some of the staff were lurking, but Kent paused when he got to Bitty and held out his hand to shake.

“Hey, do I know you?” Kent asked with a small frown, not letting go of Bitty’s hand immediately like he’d done with the others. Bitty wanted to frown, but pasted his best smile on instead.

“Not really,” Bitty said. Kent didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Help me out with it,” Kent said.

Bitty did frown this time.

“It’s really not important,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”

Kent gave him a strange look, tipping his head to the side, and Bitty could almost see the moment that the quarter slid into place. 

“Oh,” Kent said awkwardly, dropping Bitty’s hand. For the first time that day, he seemed to not know what to say. “Uh, nice to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said flatly. 

Kent moved on with an awkward nod. If anyone else had noticed the exchange, they didn’t seem to think it was that strange. As soon as he could, Bitty skated away from the group. He started kicking pucks into the goal so he could pick them up easier and no one really took any notice of it, although Bitty could swear that Kent was watching him as he continued to shake hands and schmooze with the remaining staff and a few straggling parents. 

If he was watching, Kent gave him a wide berth for the rest of the time they had on ice. Even still, every time Bitty caught sight of him, his annoyance level ratcheted up a little more and he itched for his phone so he could text Lardo about this. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


It should not have been surprising when Fawcett announced two days later that he’d managed to convince Kent to drop in on camp as a guest coach for the rest of the summer. Bitty knew that Fawcett had probably sold Kent hard on it every second he’d had his ear because that was just how Fawcett was, but somehow it still took him by surprise. He knew that Kent was from somewhere in upstate New York and probably trained around the City during his offseasons, but the promise of Kent’s continued presence at the hockey camp felt like a weirdly cruel twist of fate. 

On the first day that Kent dropped in to camp, it was utter mayhem all over again even though he was, of course, sans Stanley Cup this time around. Bitty managed to successfully avoid him for almost a week, only interacting a little as they passed off kids, but Kent wasn’t there a ton anyways which was a relief. Just every few days and never at predictable times, so Bitty couldn’t exactly plan around him but also didn’t have much obligation to talk to him either. 

One day, Kent slipped onto the ice without Bitty noticing because he was busy walking through a new puck-handling drill with a group of his forwards. When Bitty set them off to skate through it on their own, Kent skated over and stood next to him, watching the kids in silence for a few minutes. Then, Kent cleared his throat and looked more awkward than Bitty thought possible for him.

“Do you still see Jack much?” Kent asked as if they were old friends just catching up. Bitty shot him a look and was gratified by Kent’s slight wince.  

“Not really,” Bitty said, clipped. Not that it was any of Kent’s business.

“Yeah, me neither,” Kent said.

Bitty gave him a loaded look and just barely fought the urge to roll his eyes again. Kent huffed a small laugh, clearly reading Bitty’s expression anyways. His mouth quirked into a sharp smile.

“So, uh, how’d you end up all the way up here? Aren’t you from somewhere down South?” Kent asked after a moment.

Bitty sighed. Clearly, Kent was intent on having a conversation no matter what signals Bitty threw his way. 

“Georgia,” Bitty supplied, although he wasn’t sure why he felt it was important to clarify. “And my coach from Samwell is good friends with Fawcett and recommended me, so here I am.”

“Oh, cool, man,” Kent said.

Bitty gave him a sidelong look and Kent colored a little, obviously recognizing that he was being weird too. 

“I, uh, watched some clips of you in the Frozen Four last night,” Kent said. “You’re really good. I mean, obviously if Fawcett hired you, you must be, but you know, you’re fast. Good hands.”

Bitty blinked at him in surprise. Okay, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“Thank you,” he said in spite of his surprise because good manners were basically a knee-jerk reaction from him.

Kent nodded and then pressed his lips together. Bitty thought he might finally be out of the topics of conversations that he had clearly come prepared with, but then Kent cleared his throat again and his mouth twisted to the side.

“Look, I get that we might never be best friends or anything, but it looks like I’m gonna be around a bit this summer and I just wanted to like…clear the air, I guess?” Kent said.

Bitty raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve never done anything to me,” Bitty said carefully. 

Kent laughed a little and ran a hand through his unruly hair. 

“Yeah,” Kent said. “But…you know. I know you probably only care about Zimm’s side of the story, but there’s a lot of history there that you weren’t around for. I know how it probably sounded though.”

Bitty’s expression darkened and he looked away.

“It wasn’t a great first impression,” Bitty said, because it was the nicest way he could think of putting it.

“Well,” Kent said and it sounded like an admission. It took him a minute to continue. “I guess I’m just hoping you’ll let me have a chance at making a better second impression then.”

Bitty shrugged, but didn’t explicitly say ‘no’ like he wanted to. It was probably in his best interest to not piss off the superstar NHL player who was a special guest of his employer. 

“I’m here to work,” Bitty said finally. “Not dredge up things that happened three years ago.”

It was the best he could do, but Kent nodded, seemingly satisfied. 

“Okay,” Kent said. “So, truce?”

He held out his hand in a fistbump and Bitty stared at it in shock for a little too long to be comfortable. Kent was just dropping it when Bitty finally forced himself into action and bumped Kent’s now limp fist lightly.

“Fine,” Bitty said. “Truce.”

Kent smiled brightly — the kind of smile Bitty had seen him flash in a hundred promotional spots over the years — and Bitty couldn’t deny its effectiveness. He smiled back tentatively.

 

* * *

  
  
  


The thing about Kent Parson that was especially frustrating was that he was almost impossible not to like. 

And Bitty was actively trying. It was annoying. 

The entire camp staff was starry eyed in love with him by the end of the first week and even the crankiest kids were infatuated. Bitty had to grudgingly admit that Kent had a lot of charm and seemed to know exactly how to use it. While Bitty didn’t trust Kent’s charm one iota, he also recognized a losing battle when he saw one. There was no way he was going to find an ally amongst the staff to vent his frustrations with Kent, so instead he turned to calling Lardo with updates. 

“He just waltzes in whenever he feels like it and just, like, inserts himself into clinics,” Bitty ranted one afternoon late that week. “It’s so annoying.”

“Well, is he helping?” Lardo asked. Bitty could tell she was painting by the far-away, tinny sound of her voice that meant he’d been put on speakerphone. 

“That’s not the point,” Bitty said. He knew he sounded defensive but he didn’t care.

“Bro,” Lardo said and Bitty sighed. She didn’t really need to actually lecture him.

“I know.”

“I thought you, like, agreed to a truce or whatever?” Lardo asked. 

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “But that’s just…I mean, I don’t trip him during practice or bad mouth him to the other staff, you know?”

“Hmm,” Lardo agreed, but it was skeptical. “Have you talked to Jack about it?”

Bitty sputtered a little. 

“No,” he finally forced out. 

Lardo didn’t respond immediately.

“Are you going to?” she asked after a long silence. It was gentler than her normal tone and the words stepped directly on a bruise that Bitty had been avoiding thinking about for a long time. He was suddenly glad they weren’t on Facetime so Lardo couldn’t see him furiously wipe at the sting of tears in his eyes. 

“Um, probably not,” he said as soon as he could get a grip on himself. “Don’t want to bother him with it.”

Lardo was so quiet that Bitty thought that he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line. When Bitty and Jack had first fallen out nearly a year ago, she might have pushed him a little harder on that, but now, she seemed to accept that it wasn’t going to happen.

“I don’t think you’d be bothering him,” she said in that same careful, gentle tone, but then dropped it. 

Bitty pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. 

“I should go,” he said abruptly. “I have to… I have a pie in the oven.”

Lardo didn’t call him on his blatant lie and it made Bitty feel even worse as he hung up. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


July rolled around with a stifling heat wave that made the ice sloppy and hard to work on, but the kids were mostly undeterred even if the coaching staff all bitched about it the moment they were out the door for the day. They were due to finish up their first camp session at the end of the week and Fawcett and his wife were in full swing organizing all of the staff for the Parents’ Night Fundraiser that was going to cap it off.

“You got anything we can throw in a silent auction, Bittle?” Fawcett asked him one afternoon as he leaned against the boards at practice.

“Huh?” Bitty asked, distracted as he watched his group of kids do odd-man rushes up the ice. 

Fawcett grunted and handed over a clipboard with a bright, colorful flyer advertising the Parents’ Night that was happening at the end of the week. There was a sign-up sheet underneath.

“Silent auction,” Fawcett repeated. 

“Oh!” Bitty said. “I can make some pies?”

“I think Jan doesn’t want any perishables,” Fawcett said with a wince. 

“Well,” Bitty said, putting both hands on his hips. “I don’t know what else then. I could teach someone to make a pie, I guess.”

Fawcett gave him a considering look and then pursed his lips.

“What about some private baking classes then?” Fawcett asked. 

“You think people would want that?” Bitty asked. 

Fawcett patted him on the back and nodded. 

“Yeah, kid, lots of people love that shit,” Fawcett said. “You up for it?”

“I…” Bitty started to say yes and then hesitated. “Well, I guess I would be, except I’m not sure how long I’ll be around to actually teach them? I wouldn’t want to shortchange anyone because I might be leaving come September...”

Fawcett frowned, considering him.

“You got somewhere to be in September?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Bitty said. “Not yet.”

“Well, I’ve got a spot open on my regular staff for the season if you want it. You’ve more than earned it this summer.”

“Really?” Bitty asked. 

Fawcett raised an eyebrow at him and Bitty blushed. 

“I mean, I’d love to stay, sir,” Bitty said hastily. “I’ve been meaning to bring it up with you.”

Fawcett clapped him on the back. 

“We’ll talk salary tomorrow,” he said. “You on for baking lessons?”

Bitty nodded. He was pretty sure he would agree to just about anything just then. Fawcett had just solved about ten different problems Bitty was struggling with in one fell swoop. He was practically itching to call his mother and brightly tell her that he wouldn’t have to move back to Madison after all, which had been a lingering threat hanging over the end of his summer if he didn’t find a way to extend his stay. 

“What do you think - two or three private lessons?” Fawcett asked, frowning down at his clipboard as he wrote something in his tidy scrawl. “What do you think that might fetch?”

“Um,” Bitty said, “I don’t know? Maybe a hundred or two?”

Fawcett frowned but nodded. 

“We’ll make it three lessons,” he said, deciding for Bitty. “That good?”

“Yep,” Bitty said, nodding a little too enthusiastically. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Parents’ Night was a chaotic nightmare before it even began and Bitty was deep in the middle of it as he helped kids get on and off the ice for their exhibition games. He almost forgot the silent auction was even happening until Jan, Fawcett’s wife, pulled him out into the lobby to introduce him to a whirlwind of parents. He smiled and shook hands until his “So nice to meet y’all” started to lose its shine and Jan finally released him to mingle on his own. Bitty headed straight to the drinks table for a quick breather before having to plunge back in. By some stroke of bad luck, Kent wandered up behind him just as Bitty started to pour himself a drink.

“So, what did they rope you into doing for this auction thing?” Kent asked. Bitty made a face into his punch at the sound of Kent’s voice, but when he turned around, he made sure to flash a quick smile at Kent. 

“Baking lessons,” Bitty said with a wave of his hand. “You?”

Kent shrugged.

“Just dinner,” Kent said. “I’m not really sure why anyone is going to pay for the honor of watching me eat a steak or something, but whatever.”

Bitty snorted in agreement and Kent smirked, as if he knew exactly what Bitty was thinking.

“So, baking lessons, huh?” he asked.

Bitty nodded. 

“Are you any good?” 

Bitty crossed his arms and huffed, setting his glass down on the table. 

“I won two statewide baking competitions back in Georgia and my baking channel on YouTube had over 100,000 subscribers,” Bitty said, only preening a little. 

Kent grinned.

“So like really good, then?” Kent amended.

“Really good,” Bitty confirmed with his own smug grin. 

“Huh,” Kent said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kent wandered off a few minutes later and Bitty plunged himself back into the crowd of parents, shaking hands and smiling until his face hurt. By the end of the night, he was so tired, he didn’t even think to look at the bidding sheet for his baking lessons. He’d let Jan deal with the details and he would just show up wherever she told him to. Right then, the only thing he wanted to do was get a decent night of sleep before he had to get up and work again in the morning. They had a new batch of kids coming — older this time — and it would be back to square one.

 

* * *

  
  
  


In retrospect, Bitty maybe shouldn’t have been surprised because it was honestly just how his summer was going, but he was definitely still pissed when he found out who won the auction. 

“Kent Parson bid how much?” Bitty asked Jan with a squeak that he really wasn’t proud of.

“Eric,” she said gently, looking over her glasses at him as he hovered in the doorway of her office. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“No, of course not,” Bitty said, finally taking a seat. “It’s just — did you say $5,000?”

“He said he wanted to make sure no one outbid him,” Jan said and Bitty could tell she found it funny. Bitty found it utterly ridiculous seeing as how when he’d last looked at the bidding sheet, the highest bid had been $330. 

“Outbid…him…” Bitty choked out. “Good Lord.”

“Now from where I’m sitting,” Jan said. “It seems like you two have been getting on well enough at camp, so I’m not sure why this has you all worked up. He’s a nice boy who wants to support the camp.”

Bitty nodded, wide-eyed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Kent Parson described as a  _ nice boy _ before, but if anyone could do it with a straight face, it was probably the grizzled old woman to whom he’d just written a $5,000 check for three baking lessons. Bitty rubbed his face and tried to pull himself together a little more. He could totally handle this. It was just baking and a little bit of fun. Who cared if Kent was a total ass the whole time?

“I…uh,” Bitty started and then cleared his throat. “Do you want to just pass along my number to him then?”

“Sure. He’ll also be in tomorrow morning to say hello to the new batch of kids,” Jan said. “You can probably connect with him then.”

“Right,” Bitty said, swallowing. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

Jan smiled and then turned back to her computer in a clear dismissal of Bitty. Bitty stood and left with a mumbled thanks. He finished out the day on auto-pilot and then went home to the apartment he shared with two of the other coaches and tried calling Lardo, then when she didn’t pick up, he called his mother instead. 

“Dicky,” she said warmly when she answered the phone. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you tonight, what’s going on?”

“Hey Mama,” Bitty said. He was sitting cross-legged in his bed and fiddling with the duvet. “Am I bothering you?”

“Never, sweetheart,” she said and Bitty could hear the soft clink of dishes in the background that meant she was probably in the kitchen. He felt a pang of homesickness even though Madison hadn’t really been his home in a long time. 

“You know how I told you about that silent auction thing?” he started. His mother hummed in acknowledgement and he hesitated. He couldn’t exactly say  _ Kent Parson bid $5,000 for me to teach him how to bake a pie _ , now could he? Instead, he said, “I found out that someone I don’t really like won the auction for my lessons.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she sighed. “It sounded like a lot of fun.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said, leaving it at that. 

His mother filled the silence with a rambling story about something that Judy had done at church the week before. Bitty listened with half an ear as he tried to talk himself down from what he was beginning to think was an overreaction to the Kent situation. After all, it was just three lessons and Kent didn’t have much longer in New York this summer anyways, so it would probably be over before Bitty even knew it or maybe Kent would just brush him off completely. 

It seemed like the type of thing someone like Kent would do. Spend a lot of money just to annoy Bitty. 

There’s no way Kent would have not known that it would annoy Bitty. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


The next day, Bitty had no trouble tracking Kent down because Kent was already waiting for him when Bitty arrived early to set out equipment. Bitty did his best not to frown at him, especially when Kent offered him a coffee cup that Bitty found full of a pleasantly sweet latte. 

“Peace offering,” Kent said as he handed it over.

“Thanks,” Bitty said tentatively, sipping on the coffee. 

“Look, uh, you don’t have to actually give me pie lessons or whatever,” Kent said as Bitty put aside his coffee and grabbed more cones to put out on the ice. Kent grabbed the other stack of them and skated out onto the ice with Bitty, throwing them down in basically the right places. 

“You don’t want lessons?” Bitty frowned at him. He was weirdly hurt by the fact that Kent was brushing him off. Kent was looking at him a little strangely and when he noticed Bitty looking back, he shrugged.

“I figured you just kinda got dragged into the fundraising thing anyways and I was planning on donating whatever they needed to hit their goal,” Kent said. He turned away from Bitty to drop the last few of his cones. 

“So you bid $5,000 on my baking lessons to get me out of them?” Bitty asked skeptically. 

Kent was looking a little bashful now. 

“Shit,” he said. “Did you actually want to do them?”

“I — I don’t know?” Bitty said, catching himself just before he lied. “I guess it could have been fun.” 

Kent toed at the ice and then looped around Bitty, spraying him with a little snow. 

“Well,” Kent said. “I guess if it means that much to you, you can teach me how to make a pie, Bittle.”

Bitty couldn’t help scowling at him.

“You just said you didn’t want the lesson.”

“I did not,” Kent said. “I’m a big fan of pie. Would love to make one of my own. In fact, I paid $5,000 to learn, if I recall correctly.”

Bitty planted both hands on his hips.

“Are you doing this just to chirp me? Because I swear to God —“

Kent laughed, interrupting him.

“Does Saturday work for you? I should have the day off from training and there’s no camp.”

Bitty gaped at him and then when it became clear that he wasn’t going to leave until he had an answer, Bitty nodded. 

“Yeah, okay,” Bitty said. “Saturday.”

“Great,” Kent said with a flash of a genuine smile. “Let me get your number and I’ll text you my address.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


Bitty half-expected Kent to cancel. Kent had spent the rest of the week chirping Bitty mercilessly about the lessons and Bitty had done his best to return the favor, sniping at him whenever the teenagers weren’t in earshot and sometimes when they were. It was made a little more difficult in that Kent was typically only around during afternoons every few days — he was in the middle of his own training regime and spent the morning working harder than God. He and Jack had that in common, Bitty thought. The never-ending work ethic that it took to even sniff at the NHL, much less be one of its superstars. 

Kent followed through and sent Bitty his address - an upscale neighborhood across town that Bitty had never been to before. Bitty had a box full of baking supplies he’d bought with a stipend from the fundraising money along with some of his own utensils and he caught the subway across town. His arms ached by the time he got to the black awning outside Kent’s building. There was a doorman there who looked at Bitty a little suspiciously.

“Uh, I’m here to see Kent Parson?” Bitty asked. 

“Name?” the man asked. Bitty shrank a little, but kept a firm hold on the box. 

“Eric Bittle?” he said, unsure. 

The doorman raised an eyebrow, but then nodded and opened the door and followed after Bitty. The doorman punched in a code at the elevator and let Bitty on. Bitty half-expected him to climb in too, but he didn’t.

“Seventh floor,” the doorman said. “You’ll take a left when you get up there.”

“Thanks,” Bitty said and hit the button. The doorman nodded and went back to the door without another word. The doors to the elevator slid shut and Bitty found himself in an ornate gold box that barely felt like it was moving at all. He rested the heavy box against the rail and patted his hair down. He was flushed from the walk over in the hot summer air of the city and now that he saw his own reflection, he didn’t blame the doorman for looking at him so skeptically. His hair was curled to his forehead in sweat and if his mother could see him, there’s no doubt she would say he needed a haircut. 

The elevator doors slid silently open and Bitty took a left. There were only two doors down the hallway on that side of the building and Kent’s was the first one Bitty came to. He put his box full of supplies down with a small huff and knocked on the door. 

When Kent opened the door, Bitty was blasted with a wave of music and a sweet smell of vanilla and sandalwood. Kent was grinning at him, with a cap backwards on his head and an overly large tank hanging off him, showing off every single muscle he’d been working on that summer. Not that Bitty noticed. 

“Ready to make some pie?” Bitty asked brightly. He honestly wasn’t faking the surge of enthusiasm he felt. Baking at his own apartment was a pretty depressing affair since the set-up was more the suggestion of a kitchen than an actual kitchen. 

Kent grinned wider.

“I was born ready,” he said and ushered Bitty in. Bitty leaned down to take the box, but Kent beat him to the punch and lifted it like it was nothing. After lugging it halfway across the city, Bitty hated him a little bit for that, but was also grateful to give his arms a short break before they got to work on any pie crusts. 

“I assumed you didn’t have much of anything, so I brought everything we’ll need for today,” Bitty said as way of an explanation. He paused to take his shoes off in the foyer, neatly putting them beside several pairs of Kent’s, and took the opportunity to look around the surprisingly neat apartment. 

“You assumed correctly,” Kent confirmed cheerfully from somewhere around the corner. He had turned the music down a little bit, but Bitty was surprised to recognize it as Britney Spears. He stepped a little further into the open living room and looked around to see a huge number of pictures on the wall, with Kent front and center in many of them, often with his arm around teammates or family. Several were of his cat as well. 

“Gonna spend all day snooping?” Kent asked from behind him and Bitty jumped. Kent laughed and Bitty turned around to see him leaning in the open doorway to what must be the kitchen. “Relax,” Kent said. “It’s no big deal.”

“For some reason, I assumed you just rented a place for the summer,” Bitty admitted. 

Kent shrugged.

“Bought this place a few years back with a signing bonus. I spend most summers in the city, so it made sense, you know?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. He wasn’t sure why he was blushing, but he could feel it creeping onto his face. He turned back to the pictures and took a closer look. His heart stuttered when he caught sight of Jack in one of the pictures. He stepped a little closer to look at it. Kent and Jack had their arms around each other and were sweaty and flushed in jerseys, but grinning wildly. Bitty smiled too, looking at it. 

“That was right after we won the Memorial Cup,” Kent said. Bitty didn’t jump this time, but he did look up in surprise to see Kent standing right next to him. 

“You look really happy,” Bitty said. 

“Yeah,” Kent agreed quietly. 

“Sorry.” Bitty winced. “I didn’t mean…”

Kent’s eyes snapped to Bitty and Bitty froze until Kent visibly shook himself.

“It’s whatever,” Kent said and turned back to the kitchen with a wave over his shoulder for Bitty to follow him. “It’s on the wall, you know? Fair game.”

Bitty wasn’t sure he agreed, but he definitely wanted to drop the subject. Seeing Jack’s smile had been jarring — it had been a long time since they’d really talked and longer since Bitty had seen him anywhere but TV — and Jack was so young in the picture. Younger than Bitty had ever known him to be. It was a little strange to think of Jack before Samwell. Before everything else. Bitty filed it away for later and forced himself to follow Kent into the kitchen. 

“Wow,” Bitty said, his mind going a little blank as he took in the gleaming countertops and huge island in Kent’s kitchen. “This is…big. Wow.”

Kent was grinning like a cat who got a canary.

“Yeah, I often render people speechless,” Kent said, winking at Bitty. 

Bitty shoved him with a huff.

“Don’t get nasty, Mr. Parson,” Bitty said, but he couldn’t help his own smile.

“Mr. Parson,” Kent repeated with abject horror. “God, please never call me that again.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and set about unpacking his box. He had packed everything as carefully as he could and was gratified to see the eggs he’d wrapped up in a towel at the top of the box were still unbroken in their carton. He laid out everything, carefully grouping things together while Kent watched him from the counter.

“Parse is fine,” Kent said finally, unprompted. “I mean, if you weren’t sure or whatever.”

Bitty wrinkled his nose and Kent must have caught it because he laughed.

“What? My nickname isn’t good enough for you,  _ Bitty _ ?”

“It’s fine,” Bitty said primly. “ _ Parse _ .”

“Ugh, well if you’re going to say it like that,” Kent sighed, aggrieved.

Bitty waved the rolling pin at him jokingly and then, surveying his spread of kitchen utensils and baking ingredients, nodded to himself and then handed Kent a clean, folded apron before taking the other one for himself.

“You brought aprons too?” Kent asked, bemused at the apron in his hands. 

“Yes, I did, and you’ll put it on unless you want flour all over yourself,” Bitty said bossily. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Red or white?” Kent asked as soon as Bitty had set the timer on the oven. When Bitty turned around, Kent was holding out a bottle of Merlot enticingly, 

“Red,” Bitty confirmed.

“Knew it,” Kent said and set about breaking the foil seal and taking the cork out before he handed Bitty an overfull glass.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bitty asked as he took a generous sip and followed Kent into the living room where Kent flopped onto the couch, miraculously not spilling any of his own wine on the very white carpet. Bitty took a little more care. Kent watched him with a grin and then shrugged.

“Dunno,” Kent said. “The whole bitchy Southern thing just pairs well with Merlot.”

Bitty sputtered.

Kent laughed as he took another drink and reached for the remote. 

“You mind if we check in on the game?” Kent asked. Bitty shrugged, not really sure what game was on that day, but it’s not like he wouldn’t watch it. Baseball, as it turned out.

“God, you’re a Yankees fan too?” Bitty said as soon as he saw who was playing. Kent grinned wolfishly at him. Bitty snorted. “Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kent echoed Bitty from earlier, pulling a far too-innocent face at Bitty.

“Pairs well with the asshole-ish Northerner thing,” Bitty sniped. 

Kent laughed, throwing his head back, his dimples and the thick column of his neck on full display as he did so. Bitty took a large swallow of his wine and looked away. He absolutely refused to find Kent Parson attractive. Instead, he focused on the baseball game pointedly, even though baseball was easily a fourth tier sport for him. He could still keep up. 

When the timer went off, it surprised both of them from the comfortable silence they had fallen into watching the game that had been interrupted only occasionally by Kent’s game commentary on the bullpen decisions. Bitty jumped up and went into the kitchen, leaving his empty wine glass on the island as he leaned down to peek into the oven. The crust of the apple pie they had filled together was a nice, even golden brown and Bitty smiled down at it, pleased that it looked so good. He grabbed some oven mitts and slid the pie dish quickly out of the oven and onto the waiting cooling rack. 

“Another glass?” Kent asked as Bitty was taking the oven mitts off and laying them on the counter. Bitty turned in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Bitty said. “I figured I’d head out after it was done, honestly.”

Kent’s face fell a little. He recovered quickly, but not quickly enough.

“But I guess another glass won’t hurt?” Bitty said. “We can at least finish the game off and then maybe the pie’ll be cool enough to have a slice by then.”

“You sure?” Kent asked, looking unsure for the first time. 

“Yeah,” Bitty said and he actually was. He smiled at Kent and Kent smiled back before whisking Bitty’s glass up and over to the other counter where he poured another generous portion of wine. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Bitty wasn’t quite drunk when he left Kent’s apartment, but he was definitely feeling good, even a little giddy. The walk back to the subway was much easier without the box full of baking supplies which he’d left behind at Kent’s for their second lesson. Bitty was weirdly looking forward to it. He had been dreading spending that much time alone with Kent, but Kent’s charm was hard to resist, especially when he was the sole focus of it for hours on end. 

The subway car that Bitty got on was mostly empty and Bitty found himself a seat easily. He took out his phone and smiled down at the Twitter tag notification from Kent — he had taken a picture of Bitty holding a piece of pie out for him and laughing, then asked Bitty for his Twitter handle. Bitty had a couple dozen new followers and the photo had hundreds of retweets already even though it wasn’t like Kent was even in the picture. He was still scrolling through comments when his phone also buzzed with a text.

 

[ 8:15 PM

FROM: JACK ZIMMERMANN

TO: ERIC BITTLE ]

 

_ parse mentioned you guys were coaching at camp together _

 

The timing was too perfect to be coincidental and Bitty’s stomach dropped a little. He had been meaning to text Jack about it, but had been avoiding it like the plague for reasons he couldn’t even fully articulate. Bitty’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few minutes before he set his phone down and frowned out the window into the dark of the subway tunnel. He had no idea what to say. He hadn’t known what to say all summer. 

 

[ 8:21 PM

FROM: ERIC BITTLE

TO: JACK ZIMMERMANN ]

 

_ Yeah…it’s been a busy summer and I meant to text you! Sorry.  _

 

Bitty saw the typing bubble pop up for Jack, but then disappear. He wondered if Jack had the same kind of stone-in-his-throat speechlessness when it came to talking to Bitty. Bitty sighed and looked up to see he was only two stops from where he needed to switch lines. He stood and made his way to the door just for something to do. He pocketed his phone.

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Hey, up for a Frappuccino?” Kent asked one afternoon the next week as the campers were clearing out for the day.

“Sure,” Bitty said, pleasantly surprised. Usually Kent was in and out at camp, presumably with the busy schedule of a star NHL player. He didn’t socialize much with the other staff that Bitty had seen, although he often stopped and chatted with Fawcett for extended periods. “Sure you’re not busy?”

Kent grinned.

“Wouldn’t have asked if I was,” Kent said and Bitty couldn’t resist rolling his eyes.

“Let me make sure the locker room is cleared out,” Bitty said and Kent nodded, but instead of waiting out in the tunnel, he ducked into the locker room with Bitty. 

“God, this place brings back memories,” Kent said as Bitty did a quick walk-through to verify that all their campers had left for the day. Bitty looked over to see Kent with his hands on his broad hips, surveying the locker room from just left of the logo on the floor. 

“Did you come to camp here?” Bitty asked. He honestly wasn’t sure of Kent’s full connection to the camp and Fawcett — just that it was Kent’s first year actually coaching and the Cup visit had been a complete surprise to the staff too, including Fawcett. 

“Nah,” Kent said. “But I played here once or twice at tournaments when I was barely tall enough to see over the boards.”

“Really?” Bitty asked, charmed at the thought of a miniature Kent trying to peer over the boards to see the game. Kent elbowed him as Bitty came closer. 

“Like you were much taller as a kid,” Kent said. 

Bitty made a sound of utter disagreement, but Kent laughed anyways. 

“Good to go?” Kent asked after Bitty had done his circuit and Bitty shrugged. 

“Guess so,” he said and Kent nodded before leading the way out of the room. He slowed his pace once they were in the hallway so Bitty could walk next to him. 

“I, uh, wanted to say that I had a good time the other day,” Kent said and when Bitty looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, Kent looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable about it. Bitty wasn’t sure how that made him feel exactly but his stomach kind of flipped over at whatever Kent’s expression was.

“Yeah?” Bitty asked. “That’s good.”

“I took my mom the leftovers and she went wild,” Kent said and he seemed to have recovered from whatever uncertainty he had as they emerged from the rink out into the bright sunlight of the late afternoon. Bitty immediately wished he’d thought to grab his sunglasses or at least a hat as he squinted up into the sun. Even as he thought it, Kent twisted is his own snapback around to the front so he had the benefit of the brim. Bitty couldn’t help but pout at him. Kent reached over and tousled Bitty’s hair with a shove.

“Tough luck, kid,” Kent said. 

Kent pointed them in the direction of the coffee shop just around the corner and when they walked in, the petite blonde behind the counter lit up as if Kent’s sudden appearance had made her entire day. She barely spared a glance for Bitty as he ordered and Bitty tried hard not to be offended by it. When Kent went by the bar to grab both of their drinks, she practically simpered at him and Kent flashed her a grin that she’d probably be texting her friends about for months. Kent nodded towards the deserted patio just through a glass door and Bitty grabbed the door. Kent pushed Bitty’s Frappuccino towards him as soon as they sat and then turned the cup that had his own plain black coffee in a slow circle on the table, looking at it as if it might bite him.

“What?” Bitty asked as he took a thankful sip of the sugary frozen concoction.

“She wrote her number on my cup,” Kent said.

Bitty did not quite manage to smother the laugh that came out of him as he leaned forward to look. 

“Well,” Bitty said doubtfully, but then wasn’t sure how to continue.

Kent raised an eyebrow at him and then sat back in chair. He was still frowning at his cup.

“Sometimes I think it would be a lot easier if I could just tell them they’re barking up the wrong tree,” Kent said idly after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Bitty, who had thrown his head back to soak in some sun, snapped to attention and trained his wide eyes on Kent. 

Kent’s mouth was a little wrong, twisted into a bad imitation of casual. Bitty swallowed a few times as he tried to get his suddenly racing heart under control.

“You think you ever will?” Bitty asked as casually as he could. 

Kent exhaled, just loudly enough for Bitty to hear the too long press of air leave his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “When I was younger, I thought…but things were different then.”

Bitty looked at him over the top of his cup and frowned. Objectively speaking, it was a lot safer to come out in 2017 than it might have been almost any year previously, but Bitty wasn’t sure they were talking about safety. He hedged his bets. 

“Do you really think it would go poorly?” 

Kent flinched and then gave a sad shrug that Bitty felt in his gut. He knew the exact feeling that it took to shrug like that.

“My team knows,” Kent said. He wasn’t meeting Bitty’s eyes and his face was as serious as Bitty had ever seen it. “Has known for a long time.”

“Okay,” Bitty said. 

“It’s just…” Kent said and then he sat back in his chair again. It creaked as he leaned back and adjusted his hat so it was backwards again. A single, unruly curl fought its way through the hole at Kent’s forehead and Bitty’s fingers inexplicably wanted to tuck it gently back under the hat. He gripped his cup a little tighter instead. Kent continued. “It’s never going to be the right time, you know?”

And Bitty did know. He wished he didn’t, to be honest. 

“Yeah,” he said. He wasn’t sure there was much else to say. 

His own grand coming out had been less than spectacular. He had been a teary, shaking mess and his parents had…well. It had been a lot. They were better now, but the peace had always felt fragile. It was part of the reason Bitty had ended up in New York instead back in Georgia after graduating in June. He couldn’t face a summer back in Madison, under the heavy, disappointed gaze of friends and family alike. Better to just hear the occasional heavy sigh on the phone. 

Bitty took a measured sip from his drink and was greeted with the too-sweet foam that meant he’d reached the dregs. He put the cup aside. Kent was busy tearing his straw wrapper apart and then as Bitty watched, started to deconstruct the lip of his coffee cup too. 

“You know they don’t give you prizes for that south of the border, right?” Bitty teased.

Kent flashed him a surprised smile and then pushed the cup away from himself. 

“Should we talk about that?” Kent asked. 

“What? Weird Canadian stuff?” 

“No,” Kent said. His eyes were careful and steady as Bitty tilted his head to the side. “I meant…the one particular Canadian we have in common.”

“Oh,” Bitty said and the flash of a good mood he’d felt returning suddenly slipped away again. Kent seemed to read it on his face. 

“Sorry,” he said, backpedaling. “It’s just…it’s there and if we’re going to be friends…”

Bitty laughed a little and he hated how bitter it sounded, wanted to stuff it back inside until it came out nicer. 

“Friends?” Bitty asked, looking just to the side of Kent’s face, focusing on the tendrils of his hair curling out from under his hat, sweaty in the summer heat. 

“I…uh, I just…” Kent was floundering and it was his awkward silence that snapped Bitty back into focus. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to be your friend,” Bitty said and even as he said it, the words surprised him. “It’s that I don’t really feel much like talking about Jack.”

“Ah,” Kent said and he frowned down at the table. Bitty reached across the table and patted his hand once before standing and shaking himself out. 

“Want to walk for a bit?” he asked. 

“Yeah, okay,” Kent agreed.

They walked in what Bitty thought was an aimless direction for several minutes, shoulders occasionally brushing, until they came upon a park tucked into a corner of the neighborhood that Bitty had never seen before. Kent nudged him gently onto one of the paths that crossed into the grass and Bitty took his lead until Kent found them an empty bench, well away from the scattering of people around the tiny playground and some picnickers. 

Bitty sighed a little as he sat down. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t—“

“Look—“

They both cut off at exactly the same time and Bitty laughed a little awkwardly. His hand came up to cup his neck which was hot with a blush. 

“Go ahead,” Kent said. 

“I don’t really know everything that happened between you and Jack,” Bitty said. He caught a flicker of surprise of Kent’s face before he plunged on. “But I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to tell me just so we can be friendly. You don’t owe me that.”

“Friends,” Kent said and Bitty gave him a quizzical look. “Not friendly, friends.”

Bitty wasn’t sure to say to that and felt like he was skirting the edge of an unwarranted hysteria when he looked away and tried to get ahold of himself. He was still trying to wrangle his thoughts together when Kent started talking again. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Kent said. “I didn’t really think of you not wanting to talk about him, to be honest?”

“It’s really not you,” Bitty admitted. “It just kind of sucks to talk about, I guess? It’s stupid of me.”

“Why?” Kent asked softly and when Bitty peeked at him, he was frowning. 

Bitty rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t at Kent, it was at himself. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. 

“I was so stupidly in love with him for so long,” Bitty said, not daring to look up. “And nothing ever came of it except me being miserable. There was a while where I thought it was something more than it was and Jack was gonna just come out with it one day and confess he had feelings for me too, but well — that never happened. Obviously.” 

Kent sighed and Bitty jumped a little when he felt Kent’s hand land gently on his back. He rubbed a steady, warm circle there while Bitty stared out into the distance where two kids were pushing each other on the swings. It was strangely comforting even though it had no real right to be, considering who Kent was to Jack.

“We can start a club,” Kent said after a long silence. When Bitty snorted and finally looked back to him, Kent’s smile became sly. “The Unrequited Feelings for Jack Zimmermann Club.”

Bitty gave him an incredulous look this time. 

“I like it,” Kent said, continuing without Bitty’s input. “I think we should get t-shirts.”

When Bitty stayed silent, just chewing on his lip in thought, Kent elbowed him gently. 

“Hey,” Kent said. “His loss, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bitty sighed. “I guess.”

“Do you want a personalized apron instead?” Kent asked, straight-faced and serious, and Bitty finally cracked, his laugh a little choked but genuine. 

“God, no,” Bitty finally managed to get out. 

Kent grinned and pulled Bitty into a quick one-armed hug before resting his arm casually on the back of the bench again.

  
  


* * *

 

 

It was almost the end of July by the time Kent brought up his baking lessons again and Bitty found himself actually looking forward to the lesson this time. Kent drove them back to his apartment after camp wrapped up early one Friday in a sleek sports car that was entirely impractical for city driving. Bitty was feeling a little sad that summer’s end was looming so near, even though he would be glad to see the end of their current cycle of campers because spending hours on end trying to get a bunch of 13 year-olds to do hockey drills was an actual nightmare. 

“When do you have to get back to Vegas?” Bitty asked as Kent weaved in and out traffic, drawing angry honks from the cars around them. 

Kent didn’t look away from the road, but Bitty caught his slight grimace. 

“Um, not sure yet,” Kent said. “Got some media shit here first and I’ll need to be back by early September to get some rookies settled in.”

“Oh,” Bitty said. He didn’t really have the right to be so disappointed that Kent was leaving soon, but they had been hanging out more over the past two weeks and it had been really nice. “I’m sure it’ll be great to be playing again.”

Kent did look away from the road that time, smiling at Bitty.

“Always,” Kent confirmed. “It’s been a good summer though.”

Bitty refused to acknowledge the way his stomach twisted itself up over that.

“Yeah,” he agreed instead, a little too brightly for his own ears, but Kent didn’t seem to notice. 

“You still planning on staying here?”

“I think so,” Bitty said. He played with the buttons on the armrest of the door. “I mean, it’s my only offer so far, so.”

Kent looked over at him before taking a turn way too quickly and suddenly whisking the car into a parking garage that Bitty hadn’t even seen. He keyed in a code to open a gate and parked in an extra-wide spot right next to the elevator. They both climbed out of the car and Bitty took in the parking garage with a little bit of awe. He had seen the inside and outside of Kent’s building already and it had been fairly opulent, but he really hadn’t known that parking garages got this nice. 

Kent seemed completely oblivious to Bitty’s momentary shock at how clean the garage was and had already headed to the elevator to swipe an access card and get the doors open. It was a different elevator than the one Bitty had used before, but just as nice. When they made it to Kent’s floor, Bitty was fairly sure that without Kent, he would have been completely lost because the carpet and hallway seemed endless as Kent led him to the other end of the building. 

Kent swiped his card again at his door, as if it were some hotel and not his apartment, and Bitty had the slightly hysterical thought of Kent sneaking him into a hotel room for some kind of secret hookup. He must have made some sort of noise, because Kent looked back at him with a furrowed brow as he opened the door. Bitty shook his head and followed Kent inside. The apartment was a little less immaculate this time around, a throw blanket balled up on the couch and a pile of mail on the coffee table. A huge orange cat was sleeping on the very top of the cat tree pushed in the far corner of the living room and she opened one eye to look at them before hissing at Bitty and jumping down to run down the hallway and out of sight.

“Uh, sorry,” Kent said. “She’s not much of a people person.”

“I honestly don’t think I even noticed you had a cat last time I was here?” Bitty said, eyes a little wide as he turned back to Kent. “I don’t know how I missed the cat tree, but I totally did.”

Kent smiled and shrugged before heading into the kitchen.

“Kit’s pretty anti-social. She doesn’t even come out for my teammates, to be honest.”

“She looks cute from what I saw,” Bitty said. “Huge.”

Kent grinned and pulled out his phone. It took him a moment to thumb through it before he handed it over to Bitty. His photostream was basically a constant stream of Kit, huge and orange and fluffier than any cat Bitty had ever seen. Bitty didn’t even normally like cats, but he was a little charmed by the way Kit was several sizes too big and clearly infatuated with her owner, if the way she was plastered to his chest in almost every other photo was any indication. 

“I had everything on that list you sent over delivered yesterday,” Kent said as he rummaged through his fridge and Bitty continued to swipe through the album on his phone. Bitty waited until Kent had most everything laid out and ready to go before surrendering Kent’s phone back to him.

“She’s precious,” Bitty said honestly. “I can tell she adores you.”

Kent gave him a shy smile that Bitty wasn’t sure he’d ever seen out of him before. 

“Okay,” Bitty said, clapping his hands together. Definitely time for a subject change if Kent was going to melt into an adorable mess over his cat. “Ready to learn how to make a lattice?”

 

* * *

  
  
  


Kent pulled out the wine much sooner this time, pouring Bitty a glass long before the pie made it to the oven, and Bitty had a pleasant buzz by the time they retreated with their glasses to the living room. Kit hadn’t returned and Bitty felt a little bad about chasing her out of her space, but Kent didn’t mention it. He also didn’t turn on the TV this time, instead opting for just relaxing into a comfortable silence with Bitty. Bitty didn’t mind. He flipped through his Twitter feed and sipped his wine and Kent seemed to be doing the same. 

“Why aren’t you dating?” Kent asked, out of the blue. 

Bitty look up from his phone, startled. Kent looked a little bit like he wanted to kick himself, but he also didn’t retract the question.

“I’m not  _ not  _ dating,” Bitty hedged. It wasn’t like he’d set some sort of “No Men” ultimatum in his life. (Lord knows he did plenty of lamenting the lack of men in his life to his friends.)

“But you’re not really looking?” Kent pressed, not unkindly. “Like, I bet you $10 you don’t have Grindr on your phone.”

Bitty couldn’t help the strangled yelp that came out of his mouth as he clutched his phone in his hand. He flushed immediately and looked away as Kent laughed.

“I’ll take that as a ‘I certainly do not, Mr. Parson’,” Kent said in a terrible imitation of a Southern accent. Bitty scowled. 

“You said not to call you Mr. Parson,” he sniped, even though it was completely beside the point. 

Kent grinned wolfishly at him. 

“Are you scared of Grindr, Bitty?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Bitty hated the squeak in his voice as he said that. He could tell his face was absolutely on fire by then. 

“Can’t a bro just want to get another bro laid?” Kent said. He was still grinning at Bitty as he scooted a little closer on the couch. Bitty clutched his phone tighter. Kent’s expression shifted into something that looked suspiciously like pouting, but Bitty was unmoved. Kent sighed dramatically. “Fine, don’t let me live vicariously through you.”

“Oh,” Bitty said. Because of course that was what this was really about. Kent probably didn’t get to talk about the gay dating scene often, much less actually participate in it. 

“Don’t,” Kent said and he sounded sharper than Bitty expected.

“What?” 

“I can see you getting all ready to throw me a pity party and I don’t need it,” Kent said.

Bitty sighed and got up from the couch. Surely, the pie was about ready to come out of the oven by now. Kent didn’t immediately follow him in and Bitty had the pie out on a cooling rack before he noticed Kent was lurking in the doorway. 

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Kent said.

“You didn’t,” Bitty said and it was almost completely true. “I don’t have that many gay friends either, so I get it.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have Grindr on my phone either,” Kent said. Bitty rolled his eyes and threw the oven mitts aside before pushing past Kent back to the living room where he’d left his wine. 

“Well, yeah,” Bitty said, like it was obvious why that was the case, because it was. Kent didn’t argue.

Kent had grabbed a fresh bottle of Merlot and Bitty raised an eyebrow when he started pouring them both fresh glasses, but didn’t refuse his. 

“Don’t you have training tomorrow?” Bitty asked after a few sips. 

“No,” Kent said. “Off day.”

Bitty hummed. He was definitely feeling a buzz by then, but nothing too overwhelming, just a pleasant heaviness in his limbs. 

“So,  _ are _ you scared of Grindr?” Kent asked, because Bitty was quickly learning he was incapable of leaving well enough alone. Bitty sighed heavily, aggrieved, but Kent only smirked. 

“Not scared,” Bitty said. “It’s just…I don’t know. Feels a little out of my wheelhouse, I guess?”

“Hm,” Kent said. 

Bitty squirmed under his gaze. 

“I’ve hooked up before.” Bitty found himself strangely defensive on the topic. “I just don’t need an app for it.”

Kent held his hands up in faux defeat.

“I totally believe you,” he said unconvincingly. 

Bitty huffed. 

“It’s not a big deal to not be a hook-up kind of guy, Bitty,” Kent said, prodding Bitty in the side. Bitty crossed his arms and squirmed away from the touch.

“Are you?” he asked, desperate to deflect.

“What?” Kent asked. 

“A hook-up kind of guy?”

“Oh,” Kent said. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess.”

Bitty couldn’t help his smirk. He was pretty sure even NHL players on the down low still had plenty of opportunity to hook up. Especially ones that looked like Kent Parson. 

“You think that pie is cool enough yet?” Kent asked, suddenly launching himself up off the couch and into the kitchen again. 

“Um, probably not,” Bitty said. 

“I’m gonna veto the pie’s optimal temperature in favor of my stomach,” Kent said and, by the time Bitty joined him in the kitchen, he was brandishing a pie server like a weapon as he looked over the pie. 

“Give me that before you demolish it,” Bitty said, snatching it from him. 

The pie cut about as cleanly as Bitty expected it to since it was still so hot from the oven, but he couldn’t deny it smelled absolutely heavenly and his own stomach grumbled as he plated a slice for each them. Kent swiped his plate as soon as Bitty put down the piece and started tearing into it, undeterred by the soft wisps of heat curling out of the blueberries. 

Kent headed back out to the couch and Bitty joined him, blowing on his own pie to cool it down. He was halfway through his slice when Kent went back for seconds. Bitty finished his up as Kent worked on his second slice with a little more relish. 

“God, this is fantastic,” Kent said as he forked another bite of pie in his mouth. “My trainer is gonna flip his lid when I tell him about this.”

Bitty snorted. “Just don’t tell him.”

Kent’s face twisted into what was obviously fake offense. Bitty tried hard to keep his own face straight, but let a small giggle escape. 

“I can’t believe that you would advocate lying to my trainer,” Kent said, much better at keeping his own facade up. He scooped up the last of the pie on his plate and ate it all in one huge bite, before setting his plate back on the coffee table. He patted his stomach as if it was noticeably larger. “Besides, I gotta make sure I work all of this off.”

“Mm, yes,” Bitty said. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your perfect abs.”

Kent smile was sly and chirpy as hell. Bitty flushed, realizing what he’d said and ducked his head.

“I just mean…” Bitty mumbled. 

“S’fine,” Kent said casually and he reached out with a hand to brush Bitty’s arm reassuringly. Bitty looked down to where his fingers lingered and licked his lips before looking back up at Kent. Kent seemed just as taken in by the sudden tenseness in the air between them. Bitty’s eyes flitted to his lips before catching on Kent’s own eyes which had gone dark and serious as he looked at Bitty.

Bitty put aside his own plate and scooted closer to Kent on the couch. Kent’s hand, already on Bitty’s arm, curled a little tighter around his bicep and reeled Bitty in until Bitty was so close, it would barely take any movement at all to press their lips together. Bitty couldn’t look away from Kent’s eyes, dark green in the low light of the room and far prettier up close.

“Okay?” Kent asked. His fingers were rubbing small circles into Bitty’s arm, sending sparks of sensation through Bitty.

Bitty nodded and then closed the distance between them, sliding their lips together. Kent’s hand slid into Bitty’s hair immediately and Bitty made a small noise of surprise as Kent pulled Bitty closer, but went along eagerly when it became clear that Kent wanted Bitty in his lap. Bitty managed to get one leg over Kent without breaking the kiss and yeah, that angle was so much better. Bitty rested his hands on Kent’s shoulders at first, but then let them drift down, one finding its way under Kent’s shirt to the warm, bare skin of Kent’s stomach. 

Kent’s kisses were ravenous. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding under Bitty’s own flannel one minute and then running over Bitty’s ass the next. Bitty wanted so much less clothing between them. He pulled away, breathing heavily and Kent was no better, leaning his face into the hollow of Bitty’s throat and blowing hot breath there between stuttering kisses to Bitty’s flushed skin. 

“Are we—?” Bitty said. “I mean, can we—?”

Kent laughed and it shook through Bitty too. His hands were still very much on Bitty’s ass. Bitty was surprised by how much he liked them there. They made him feel a little bolder than normal. 

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” Bitty asked, more sure of himself this time. Kent’s fingers dug into Bitty’s skin through the fabric of his pants and Bitty let out a small whine at the way it felt. 

“Yeah,” Kent said. “Let’s do that.” 

Bitty made to get up, but Kent grabbed him firmly around the waist and lifted him instead. Bitty yelped, but instinctively wrapped his legs around Kent’s torso. Kent laughed and hitched Bitty a little closer, stealing a brief kiss before walking them carefully down the hallway.

“I am perfectly capable of walking,” Bitty huffed, but didn’t squirm in Kent’s arms. 

“More fun this way,” Kent murmured, his face buried in Bitty’s neck, nipping a bit at Bitty’s skin, before throwing Bitty unceremoniously on a very comfortable bed. Bitty scowled, but also couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him as Kent climbed on top of him and manhandled him back further onto the bed until they were arranged to his liking. Bitty pulled him down for another kiss as soon as his head hit the pillow and Kent pressed against him eagerly, his body a solid weight on top of Bitty. 

Bitty’s hands found themselves under Kent’s shirt again, tracing the hard line of Kent’s muscles until finally tugging the shirt up and over Kent’s head and throwing it to the side. Kent grinned down at him and slid his hands under Bitty’s shirt, clearly looking to even the playing field. Bitty scrambled to undo a few buttons on his shirt before letting Kent slide it over his head and then meeting Kent for another kiss, hot and eager. Bitty pulled back after a minute and pushed Kent up so he could roll them over.

When Bitty had Kent underneath him, he took a long moment to admire the actual perfection of Kent’s abs. He had seen them before, but never this close and never with…intent. He had always tried hard not to look before and now here they were, on display for him. He dragged a single finger along the defined, hard muscle and sighed a little.

“Lord Almighty, you are pretty,” Bitty said. 

Kent was smirking when Bitty finally tore his eyes away from Kent’s abs, but Bitty couldn’t even bring himself to be self-conscious about it. Instead he ducked down and kissed Kent’s chest, dragging his tongue across Kent’s stomach and gently teething at Kent’s nipples while Kent made pleased, incredibly hot sounds above Bitty. When Bitty reached the top of Kent’s jeans, Kent was pitching a very obvious tent and his hand had found its way to Bitty’s hair. 

“Do you want me—?” Bitty started.

“Yes,” Kent said before he could even finish.

Bitty breathed out a quiet laugh, smiling up at Kent. His fingers were dipping under the band of Kent’s underwear and his skin was deliciously hot to Bitty’s touch. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” Bitty teased.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kent said confidently.

“Mmm.” Bitty laughed again, but popped the button of Kent’s jeans. He looked up to see Kent staring intensely back at him. Bitty hooked both fingers around the waistband of Kent’s jeans and underwear and pulled them slowly down, not breaking eye contact as Kent’s dick sprung free, fully erect. 

“Yours too?” Kent asked as soon as Bitty had finished taking Kent’s pants off and discarding them off the edge of the bed. 

“Okay,” Bitty said and slid off the bed for a moment so he could shimmy out of his pants before climbing back between Kent’s legs. Bitty ran a hand up Kent’s leg, resting it on Kent’s knee and feeling suddenly unsure for the first time since they’d started. He wasn’t a blushing virgin by any means, but he also hadn’t been lying when he’d said hook-ups weren’t really in his normal wheelhouse. 

“Come here,” Kent said quietly, obviously seeing Bitty’s hesitation. 

He reeled Bitty in for a kiss, slow and careful and so unlike the kisses they’d been sharing up to that point. Bitty made a small noise as their dicks brushed against each other and couldn’t help but grind down a little. Kent’s hands came up to grab his ass, kneading into the flesh. 

“Fuck, Bitty,” Kent groaned as Bitty found a stuttering rhythm against him. 

“Can I blow you?” Bitty asked and he hated that it came out as a little shy, but Kent barely seemed to notice, exhaling hugely and nodding.

“Already said yes,” Kent said with a playful slap to Bitty’s ass. Bitty nipped at his lip before smoothing it over with a kiss.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Bitty said even as he slid down Kent’s body, his hand finding Kent’s already leaking dick and stroking it a few times. 

“Sorry,” Kent mumbled. His hands were soft as smoothed over Bitty’s shoulders, pushing him gently down until Bitty’s face was level with Kent’s dick. Bitty pressed a light kiss to the head of Kent’s cock and continued stroking with his hand. Kent made a soft sound and his fingers became more possessive in Bitty’s hair as Bitty leaned forward and swallowed around his cock. “Fuck, you’re so hot, Bits,” he said

Kent continued to murmur encouragement to him as Bitty found a steady rhythm with his mouth, his fingers occasionally pulling at Bitty’s hair and small, wet gasps coming from him whenever Bitty sucked especially hard. Bitty had always loved this more than anything he’d tried in bed and Kent might just be the hottest guy he’d ever gone down on. When Kent warned Bitty that he was close, Bitty re-doubled his efforts at sucking Kent down, his hands kneading into Kent’s ass. Kent was watching him, his eyes all grey and dark and intent on Bitty’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Kent said as he came in Bitty’s mouth. Bitty swallowed down as much as he could before pulling off and pumping Kent through the rest of it until Kent gently pulled his hand away, then threaded their fingers together. “Give me a minute.”

Bitty kissed the now soft curve of Kent’s dick before crawling his way up Kent’s body and straddling him. He let his hands wander on Kent’s toned stomach as Kent got his breathing under control, one hand thrown over his face. Kent’s other hand came up to grab Bitty’s hip and then slid to cup his ass. Kent massaged his fingers into the plump skin there and Bitty’s hips jerked forward, his almost painfully hard dick sliding against Kent’s stomach. 

“Anything in particular you wanting?” Kent asked, his voice a little scratchy, but he had both of his hands on Bitty now, one still cupping his ass and the other flitting along Bitty’s arm, tracing the muscles there. 

“Honestly it won’t take much,” Bitty said. 

Kent didn’t laugh, but Bitty could see the unspoken chirp in his eyes as he suddenly grabbed both of Bitty’s hips and rolled them over. Bitty let a startled cry but then Kent was kissing him, his lips curved into a grin and his teeth clacking against Bitty’s, but it didn’t matter much in the moment. Their mouths softened after a minute of playful wrestling and Kent’s hand drifted lazily down Bitty’s side until he took Bitty’s sensitive dick in his hand and started gently jerking it. 

“Lord,” Bitty breathed.

Kent pulled his hand back after a moment and Bitty made a small noise of protest before Kent spit in his hand and picked up where he left off.

“Gross,” Bitty said, without any bite. Kent laughed and his hand started pumping faster, Bitty’s dick pressed between their two bodies and it was so hot, Bitty thought he might actually explode. 

“Doing okay, Bits?” Kent asked as he gripped tighter, his wrist twisting and jerking so fast that it was almost too much. Bitty managed a small “uh huh” before Kent was kissing him again and that pushed him over the edge entirely. Kent rocked with him, his hand growing looser as Bitty came but still there until Bitty fell back into the pillows, completely spent. 

“Wow,” Bitty said, breathless. Kent gave Bitty’s thigh a gentle pat and then kissed him again, deep and open-mouthed. He disappeared for a moment only to return with a washcloth. Bitty took it from him thankfully, wiping himself off and then dropping it to the side of the bed. 

“Good?” Kent asked softly, barely above a whisper as he climbed back into bed. 

“So good,” Bitty assured him. “Come here.”

Kent came easily, sliding next to Bitty and pulling him flush against his body before kissing him. Bitty wiggled a bit until he was comfortable, tucking himself in comfortably against Kent’s body and they traded lazy, warm kisses until they were both dozing. 

When Bitty woke up from their impromptu nap some time later, the light filtering in through Kent’s shades was dark. He groaned. His phone was still somewhere out in the living room and there was no way he was moving any time soon. Kent had his arm curled possessively around Bitty’s middle and it was way too nice to leave. It was the kind of thing Bitty could get used to. 

“Just stay,” Kent murmured into Bitty’s neck, as if he could read Bitty’s mind. “It’s late anyways. I can drive you wherever you need to go in the morning.”

“You’re gonna regret that in the morning,” Bitty warned. 

Kent made a dismissive sound into Bitty’s neck and pulled him even closer. 

“I’m only here for another few weeks,” Kent said quietly. Bitty was glad he wasn’t facing Kent so he could easily hide his expression in the pillow, surprised at how much that little piece of truth hurt. Kent was kissing his way along Bitty’s neck, like he knew what Bitty’s face was doing anyways. 

“Yeah,” Bitty finally managed. 

“We can just enjoy it for what it is,” Kent said after a long time.

Bitty reached back to grab his hand and threaded their fingers together. Kent squeezed his fingers.

“Yeah, okay,” Bitty agreed.

 

* * *

  
  
  


The sex was objectively great. 

When Bitty wasn’t coaching at the rink, he was usually at Kent’s apartment. More often than not in Kent’s bed. 

He didn’t really have the time to overthink it like he normally would. Bitty was pretty sure he was completely ruined for normal guys after having so much sex with a NHL player in his prime, but that was a concern for Future Bitty. Present Bitty was too busy having the best sex of his life. 

They didn’t talk about it and it was fine. 

Better than Bitty would have thought it would be, since he’d never liked hook-ups before. They had always left him feeling hungover and strangely wrung-out, but being with Kent was easy in a way that Bitty couldn’t quite quantify.

Bitty had spent so much of college hung up on Jack that he hadn’t started to explore actually dating someone who wasn’t hopelessly off-limits until his senior year. He was still kicking himself for waiting for so long, but it was also something that couldn’t really be helped. It wasn’t like he was just gonna fall out of love with Jack just because a more available guy had come along in his junior year. This thing with Kent was a far cry from the sweet, if not that exciting, boys he’d experimented with at Samwell, and Bitty was happy to take whatever time he could have with Kent. 

Kent was fun and beyond sexy even if he had terrible taste in just about everything Bitty could think of. Movies, music, clothes... _ everything _ . It was honestly a very good thing Kent was so hot.

“You can’t be serious,” Bitty said as Kent held up a bag of peanut M&Ms for his consideration. It was well past midnight and they should have both been in bed, but Kent had professed to be starving and insisted they pop around the corner to the bodega until Bitty had cracked. 

“What?” Kent asked as he shoved them in the basket even though Bitty tried to wrestle him away. 

“You pulled me out of bed to buy M&Ms,” Bitty complained. “And not even good ones.”

“I can’t believe you’re trash-talking peanut M&Ms right now,” Kent said, sounding genuinely wounded. Too bad he was completely full of shit. 

“I’m not kissing you if you eat those,” Bitty warned after a quick look to make sure they were alone, but not even the cashier was out at his desk to watch them, just a bored cat watching them from the countertop. “I hate peanuts.”

Kent pouted at him, but a moment later he left Bitty’s side next to the frozen pizzas and returned with a Snickers instead, swapping the M&Ms out in what he probably thought was a sneaky manner. Bitty didn’t call him on it, but did roll his eyes. Kent’s hand ghosted briefly on his hip before Kent moved away again. Bitty, suddenly a little flustered, turned away from the frozen pizzas and just grabbed a bag of chips on his way up to the front, sneaking glances at Kent’s ass in his very clingy sweatpants the whole way. 

Kent plucked the bag of chips and his candy from the basket on Bitty’s arm and was paying for them before Bitty could blink. Bitty rolled his eyes again, but didn’t fight it, instead focusing his attention on petting the incredibly obese calico cat spread out on the counter in front of them. The cat started purring almost the moment Bitty touched her chin and Bitty grinned at Kent.

“At least one cat around here likes me,” he said.

Kent laid a gentle hand on the calico and stroked her.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?” he asked in the same baby voice he used to coax Kit out of her hiding places when Bitty was over. Bitty refused to acknowledge how cute it was because it was seriously unfair. “Such a sweetheart.”

As soon as they were back outside in the muggy night air of the city, Kent handed Bitty his chips and Bitty happily munched on them as they walked together in comfortable silence back to Kent’s building. The doorman nodded as they walked inside and let them pass without question. The moment the elevator door closed behind them, Kent reached out and grabbed Bitty’s ass playfully. 

Bitty swatted him away with a laugh.

“Excuse you,” Bitty said. 

Kent stole one of Bitty’s chips right as the doors slid open on his floor and they tumbled out into the hallway together. Kent shushed Bitty even though neither of them were making a sound and they drifted down the hallway together in a parade of shoves and hushed giggles. Kent pushed open the door to his apartment and to Bitty’s surprise, Kit was waiting for them, perched on the table in the foyer like a disapproving mom waiting for kids out past curfew. 

“Hi, angel,” Kent whispered in the same soft voice he’d used on the bodega cat. Kit was a lot less charmed than Bitty was by it, apparently. She hopped down from table with a yowl as soon as Kent tried to stroke her and Kent gave Bitty a tragic look. Bitty, who had never been able to so much as touch Kit, felt zero sympathy. It was a win that Kit was even in the same hallway as him without hiding, to be honest.

“I think I’m winning her over,” Bitty said in a loud stage-whisper as Kit wrapped around Kent’s legs, peering up at Bitty suspiciously.

“Just wait until she smells that bodega cat on you,” Kent whispered back. “You’re fucking screwed.”

Bitty’s laugh came out a little too loud and Kit jumped before skittering off. Bitty slapped a hand over his mouth, but couldn’t stop the giggles. Kent grabbed him around the waist and marched him to the bedroom.

“She’ll come around,” Kent promised. 

Bitty threw him a doubtful look over his shoulder, but Kent just took the opportunity to kiss Bitty.

 

* * *

  
  


“You know, you owe me one last baking lesson,” Kent said late one night as they were curled up together on the couch watching cartoons. 

Bitty’s hand paused in Kent’s hair for a second before he resumed his petting. Kent was lying shirtless and relaxed on the couch, resting his head on Bitty’s thigh, his weight heavy and comforting in Bitty’s lap. 

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Bitty said. “You’re not a very good student.”

Kent scoffed.

“I’m the best student you’ve ever had.”

Bitty laughed and tugged Kent’s hair playfully.

“Okay, you tell yourself that,” he said. Then, he slid out from under Kent and stood up to go into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Kent said, obviously pouting. 

“You said you want a baking lesson,” Bitty said. “I’m sure we can whip something up.”

“What? Right now?” Kent asked, but Bitty could hear him rustling on the couch. He appeared, pouting and tousled, in the kitchen a moment later as Bitty pulled together their available ingredients. “Don’t have anything for pie.”

Bitty gave him an incredulous look.

“And how would you know?” Bitty asked. “Besides, it’s a baking lesson, not a pie lesson. We’re branching out.”

Kent harrumphed but instead of arguing, he came up behind Bitty and plastered himself to him in a hug. 

“Not going to be able to do much helping from there,” Bitty said, but didn’t try to shake him off. 

“Mm, but I definitely have the best view,” Kent said, his hand grabbing a handful of Bitty’s ass and squeezing suggestively. 

Bitty swatted at him playfully.

“Enough of that, mister,” Bitty said. “We can’t make cookies if you’re busy groping me all night.”

“I can think of plenty else we could be doing,” Kent said suggestively. 

Bitty could practically feel him wiggling his eyebrows even though Kent was behind him. 

“Two minutes ago you were seconds away from falling asleep on the couch,” Bitty said. Then, shoving a mixing bowl at him, he instructed, “Here, start measuring out two and a half cups of flour.”

Kent looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but then snapped his mouth shut and grabbed the measuring cups that Bitty nudged towards him. Bitty watched him out the corner of his eye as he set up the hand mixer, but Kent was careful with his measurements, even using a knife to knock extra flour off the top of the measuring cup before dumping it into the bowl. 

“This is a pretty simple recipe,” Bitty said as he bumped Kent’s hip to scoot him out of the way. Kent wrapped himself around Bitty’s back again instead of actually getting out the way and rested his chin on Bitty’s shoulder. “I can write it down for you if you want to make it for your teammates sometime. I bet they’d be impressed.”

“Bold of you to think they’d eat anything I made,” Kent murmured into Bitty’s neck, kissing him there and sending a shiver through Bitty. It was going to be hard to finish these cookies if Kent was this intent on distracting him. 

“Fair,” Bitty said with a small smirk. “I’ve seen the way you cook pasta and I don’t blame them.”

Kent sputtered.

“What’s wrong with my pasta?” Kent asked. “I thought you liked it?”

“Oh, honey,” Bitty said, patting him on the arm. “That’s cute.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Kent waited to bring up their arrangement again until summer was almost over. The last day of camp had been two days before because the kids were all headed back to school. Bitty had started his new slate of private skating lessons and other rink responsibilities. His schedule was less predictable than it had been for camp, so right when it mattered most, he saw less of Kent. 

If they hadn’t already been spending most of their time together in bed, they were then. Kent had slipped Bitty a key to the apartment so he could come and go as he pleased, which helped their schedules align a bit more. It was one of those afternoons that felt stolen that Kent said something when they were both still in a post-orgasm haze, their naked limbs tangled together under thin sheets. 

“Remember when I said I was a hook up guy?” Kent asked out of nowhere. 

Bitty’s heart sank in his chest and he looked away, hoping his eyes weren’t actually as shiny as they felt. He had been trying to prepare himself for this conversation for weeks now, but now that it was happening, he felt unprepared. 

“Yeah,” Bitty said, his voice tiny.

Kent’s hand slid up Bitty’s hip, his fingers splayed wide on Bitty’s bare skin, and it sent a shiver through Bitty. 

“I might have lied,” Kent said. 

Bitty’s eyes flicked to him instantly and Kent was looking up at him from where was laying further down on the bed. Kent’s expression was open and vulnerable and Bitty felt run through by it.

“What?” Bitty asked finally.

“I don’t really do hook-ups that well,” Kent said and he broke eye contact with Bitty to kiss Bitty’s hipbone. 

Bitty felt as though his breath had been knocked right out of him. His hand came up to tentatively run through Kent’s unruly hair and Kent continued kissing along Bitty’s torso, running his nose against Bitty’s skin and sending a thrumming, low pulse of desire through Bitty even though they had just finished getting off.

“Okay?” Bitty said, a little breathless as Kent circled closer to his dick, which was definitely getting interested in going again even though Bitty was exhausted.

“I’m saying I don’t really want to stop this when I go back to Vegas, Bitty,” Kent said, finally coming out with it. Bitty’s fingers twisted in Kent’s hair as his eyes widened and the words sunk in.

“Oh,” he breathed. 

Kent was watching him, clearly nervous, and Bitty shifted himself down the bed so he could reach Kent’s face and pull him in for a kiss. Kent sighed into the kiss, but didn’t try to press it any further. His lips were soft and full against Bitty’s, sliding against his in flitting, gentle kisses until Bitty finally pulled away.

“So,” Bitty said, almost in a whisper. “How would we do that?”

Kent’s face lit up as if he wasn’t expecting that from Bitty and Bitty couldn’t help tipping his own mouth into a smile. Kent’s moods were infectious, as much as Bitty tried to deny it. 

“You don’t feel like moving to Vegas, do you?” Kent asked. Bitty could tell he wasn’t quite joking, but Bitty poked him gently in the side anyways.

“I have a job here,” Bitty said because that was the easiest reason to say no. Then, with a small kick to Kent under the sheets, he added, “And we’re not even officially dating.”

“Can we be?” Kent asked. His mouth was just a hair’s breadth away from Bitty’s, so Bitty closed the distance between them and kissed him as an answer.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. Bitty knew he was blushing, but he thought Kent might like it by the way Kent was looking at him. “I’d like that.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Bitty was on the ice when Kent’s flight back to Vegas took off. He hadn’t felt comfortable asking for time off yet, so they had instead said their goodbyes early that morning. Kent had been reluctant to let Bitty leave bed and Bitty had been even more reluctant to leave him. They had spent so long lazily making out that Bitty had missed his normal train entirely and he had barely arrived in time for his morning lesson.

Kent called him later that night almost exactly when Bitty got home, as if he had been waiting until he knew Bitty would be available. 

“What would you say if I told you I spent the entire flight here looking at job listings?” Kent asked, sounding a little unsure. 

Bitty’s heart skipped several beats. He sat down on the nearest chair, hard. 

“Uh, hypothetically?” Kent added, obviously taking Bitty’s too-long silence as rejection.

“I would say you probably make enough money that you don’t really need a side-job,” Bitty finally managed. The joke was weak, but it seemed to diffuse the tension well enough.

“Would it be bad if I sent you a list?” 

“You made a list?” 

“Hypothetically,” Kent said again.

“I…hypothetically, I would like that,” Bitty said. 

“Okay,” Kent said. “Good.”

Bitty laughed then, startled at how giddy the thought made him.

“God, we’ve only been doing this for a month,” Bitty said. “I can’t believe I’m seriously thinking about this.”

“I’m just that irresistible,” Kent said. “Besides, my Vegas condo is way nicer than that dumpy apartment you’re living in there.”

“What—now I’m moving in with you too?”

“I mean, hypothetically,” Kent said, not the least bit trying to sound like he wasn’t ten steps ahead of Bitty this time. 

Bitty hummed. He was glad they weren’t Skyping so Kent couldn’t see the goofy grin he had on his face. 

“Sounds serious,” Bitty said.

“It is,” Kent agreed. Bitty’s heart was thundering so loudly in his ears that he briefly wondered if Kent could hear it through the phone. 

“I really like you,” Bitty said. It wasn’t quite what he wanted to say, but it was  _ really  _ too early for that. “More than I thought I would.”

Kent’s laugh was sharp and loud. It made Bitty feel warm all the way down to his toes. 

“Had to get that one in, huh? Kent asked. Then, quieter, more sincere, “I really like you too.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Bitty said. 

“Good.”

They hung up not long after when Kent had to leave for a dinner with his As. Bitty had barely put down his phone when it dinged with another notification and he picked it up to see an email from Kent, subject line  _ Please come _ . Bitty opened it immediately and a rush of affection ran through him. He wondered how soon he could buy a plane ticket to Vegas. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was so very much fun to write, so i hope it is half as fun to read! i've never had the chance to write bittyparse before and i'm a little bit in love.
> 
> this was a pinch hit and i had a team of lovely betas who did their best in a crunch. any mistakes and weird typos that remain are completely mine.


End file.
